


Lovers to Friends

by TruebornAlpha



Series: Space Oddities Season 1: [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Anal Sex, M/M, Public Sex, Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Space Opera, Spitroasting, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, There is so much smut in this chapter omg, Unrequited Love, slow burn Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski, space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 12:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7758205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruebornAlpha/pseuds/TruebornAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott is fine with the current "friends with benefits" arrangement, but Stiles wants something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Season 1 Episode 4 of Space Oddities. That Sciles space AU! We're going to hell for this one.

“You should let me stay. I promise I’ll make it worth your while. Give you a round four?”

Scott laughed and gently herded the woman towards the door. “If you want to see me again, that’s fine, but you need to get your own room, Spacer.” He said, giving her a quick kiss to soften the blow and closed the door behind her. He slumped against it with a sigh.

His partner had been some rakishly handsome navigator from one of the visiting ships. Probably more pirate than trader, she had that swagger and that attitude that promised danger and adventure. Scott had found her the moment she’d walked into Aegis, he could always pick the ones with the best stories. He hadn’t been disappointed, the woman had been in space battles and seen uncharted worlds, exploring old wrecks for profit. The sex hadn’t been half bad either.

None of them wanted to stay, not  _really_. They made promises, talked about grand adventures, but at the end of their time on Alpha 16, they’d fly off in their ships and rarely ever return to such a small, remote station in the middle of nowhere. That was just how Scott liked it.

It had been five years since he’d found his way to the station he now called home, long enough to be considered one of the residents and not one of the transient spacers or refugees squatting in the lower levels. It was the first real place he’d ever had for himself and for all its flaws, he’d grown to love it.

Scott thought he knew its ins and outs like clockwork, more aware of the internal cogs and gears that kept it floating than any other solitary person. Scott was always good at figuring out how a system worked. He was a far cry from the bitter, weary spacers that came to the ends of the universe to die, but he also liked to think that there was nothing that could surprise him on Alpha 16.

A soft trilling caught his attention on the opposite end of his room.

Almost nothing.

At the base of his viewscreen was a tiny, cushioned box that was carefully tucked out of harm’s way whenever Scott had visitors. He lifted its lid to find a trio of sleepy eyes already peering out at him expectantly. Scott scooped the furry little creature into his hands, petting it gently until it snored contentedly against his thumb. He didn’t know what the little alien beast from a faraway galaxy was called, but he liked to call it Farty.

The box had a lock on it and was made of reinforced carbon fiber, cost Scott a good deal of credit too. It was a container that seemed a little too secure for an animal that spent most of its day sleeping, but Farty had once nearly destroyed the space station. It was almost as destructive was the spacer who’d gifted it. Scott tried his best not to think about that. He could probably have done a better job at it.

“Yes, yes, we’re going to be late for work.”

Scott plopped the little furry creature in his pocket, muffling a lazy croon and made his way to Aegis, the most popular bar on the station.

He didn’t want to admit how often his thoughts drifted back to that particular spacer with his wide smile and his sarcastic wit. There were a hundred more like him that had come before and more that would follow, but there was  _something_  about Stiles that made him stick. It could have been the way they worked together or maybe the way Stiles always made him laugh. It might have been the quiet vulnerable delicate moments of trust when the walls had come down where no one else could see.

It was a dangerous thing to grow fond of any of the traders, merchants, scoundrels, and criminals that frequented Alpha 16. A place like this so far from the war and the oversight of the Galactic Government attracted the worst sorts of people. None of them could be trusted and more often than not, they disappeared as soon as their ship left port. There were a few who looped back through the station on their established trading routes, but it was better not to hope.

Scott found himself hoping anyways.

He knew better than this, it was all set up to fail. If he got hung up on Stiles, then the chances were high the man would never find his way back. Or worse, if he did, he’d want something from Scott that was impossible. You couldn’t give someone your heart if you never had one. Scott already knew Stiles had trouble taking no for an answer.

But Stiles wasn’t a worry for today. No one was waiting for him by the counter except Byex, a scarf already draped around her slender neck. The blue-skinned bartender ticked her fangs together impatiently, but Scott recognized the smile that was trying to tug at her lips. 

“You’re almost late.” 

“You could say I’m almost early.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” She snorted, unconvinced even as she waved goodbye, and the sound followed her out the door. Then Scott was alone, the king of his domain, the master of a kingdom of glass and fizzy bubbles. It was kind of the best thing he’d ever known.

Before coming to Alpha 16, he’d never had any reason to learn about cooking. Dehydrated energy supplements served most of his purposes. He’d never had the chance to build something with his hands, or the freedom to create and experiment for no reason other than he could. If he wanted to, he could just throw a couple of slabs of meat on a few bits of bread, and no one would complain as long as it wasn’t poison, but Scott didn’t, and he was good at cooking. He never thought he could teach himself to be good at anything.

Just as he finished rinsing the drink dispensers, the front door was shoved open, and one of the fine members of Alpha 16′s Security Team burst in. With a pained groan, Agent Clarke threw herself onto the nearest stool, and Scott was willing to bet she wasn’t overreacting. 

“If I pour you a drink, does that count as bribing an officer?” Scott teased gently, but he already had a glass ready.

“After the day I had, I could use a bribe.” She said, face buried in her arms and voice muffled. It was just a joke. The Security Force had its corrupt elements, but Scott knew ever since Valerie had joined as a young deputy, she had taken her job seriously and was dedicated to keeping the people of Alpha 16 safe.

He leaned over the counter with a smile. “Were the kids down in sector 12 defacing the walls again?”

“Worse.” She groaned, peeking up at him before taking the drink with a grateful nod. “It’s my sister.”

“Ah.” There was a wealth of understanding in that one small sound. Hayden was well known around the market, she’d grown up in the station and was one of the first people Scott had met when he’d first arrived. She was only a few years younger than he was, but already an old hand at helping her parents run their business. It seemed that her other talent was driving her poor sister crazy.

When the refugees started arriving on the station, tensions flared between the residents and the new migrants. It didn’t help that Hayden had fallen for a young refugee named Liam. A sweet kid, if a bit of a troublemaker.

“Anything I can do to help?”

Clarke shook her head and paused, sweeping her eyes around the bar. “I hate to ask, but would it be okay…I mean, the two of them. I get it, he’s a nice kid and all, but they’re not exactly careful. Would it be okay if-“

“Of course.” Scott refilled her glass. “They can come here as long as they don’t bother the customers. I’ll make sure that they don’t get in any trouble.”

“Thank you.” Clarke spoke with so much gratitude that she left Scott embarrassed, and he surreptitiously dropped a complimentary plate of crunchy nionto to go with her drink. Clarke didn’t even notice, just swallowed a handful as she cursed under her breath. “This wouldn’t be so bad if everyone just wasn’t so stubborn. You’d think mom and dad lived a stone away from Nexus, the way they act.”

Scott wisely held his tongue. Nexus was the name of the collective star systems where the influence of the Galactic Government was strongest. The Galactic Government might have been the worst when it came to spewing out humanoid-purity rhetoric, but the residents of Alpha 16 had started hating the refugees all on their own.

“With any luck, maybe you can teach them some subtlety.” Clarke sighed.

“Liam? You got better luck breathing in space.”

Scott looked up sharply, startled by a voice that was all too familiar, even though it shouldn’t have been. It had been weeks since he’d last heard the spacer, and yet there Stiles was, smiling nervously behind the security officer. He took an unsteady step forward, made to take the spot beside Clarke. Scott cut him off primly.

“These seats are reserved.” 

His reply was a little too sharply, his mouth pulling into a pinched smile. Stiles’s eyes bugged out of their sockets as he took in an entire empty row of stools. He was always so expressive, and Scott watched displeasure settle across his freckled face, twisting with bitterness and regret. Stiles was psyching himself up to argue, Scott could tell. Then Clarke swiveled around to face her, unapologetically showing off her regulation phaser.

“Is this going to be a problem?” She asked, coolly, appraising the outsider.

Stiles clamped his mouth shut and shook his head. “Just an ale. Derelian.” He mumbled under his breath and retreated to the booth closest the bar. Scott watched him go with pursed lips.

The last time he’d seen Stiles, Scott had walked away first, and with good reason. The human was pushy and demanding. He crossed far too many of the lines drawn out for him, just like all the other (ex-pirates? Smugglers?) spacers Scott found. Yet Scott’s chest still felt too tight, thrumming like nuts and bolts were banging against his rib cage. 

The bartender answered Clarke’s wordless question with a halfhearted shrug, filled Stiles’s order and dropped it off, all without looking at the spacer. He was sure that would be the end of it. Stiles would be gone soon, and until then, Scott could pretend that ignoring him was easy.

Two hours later, Stiles hadn’t left his booth, and Scott had given up on trying not to watch him.

Stiles had a lot of nerve coming back after Scott had made it clear that there were some lines that shouldn’t be crossed. Scott wasn’t going to leave the station, Stiles wasn’t the first to ask and he certainly wouldn’t be the last. The worst part of it was, deep down, Scott had wanted to go. There was a universe of beauty and adventure out there, far away from this boring, run down place. Scott would get there eventually, but he had to do it on his own terms.

With a heavy sigh, he made his way back to the booth where Stiles nursed his drink and sat down across from him, arms folded defensively.

“Hey.” Stiles spoke first.

“Hey.”

They sat in awkward silence for several long moments until Stiles couldn’t take it anymore, apologies and excuses pouring from his mouth. “I know I screwed up the last time I saw you, I wasn’t thinking when I said it. It just sort of slipped out and I’ve spent every day I’ve been gone regretting it. I didn’t mean to make you upset, I’m sorry.”

This was the part where he was supposed to walk away. Things got messy when the spacers grew attached and realized they still couldn’t get what they really wanted but…damn it. He’d missed Stiles, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. He liked having a friend and looking forward to the new stories Stiles brought back for him.

It was a risk, but one worth taking.

He took a breath and held it, carefully piecing the words together in his head before he spoke. “It’s nice to have you back. Things are pretty quiet without you around to cause trouble.”

Stiles’s face lit up and Scott knew he was in over his head. “Really? Oh dude, Scotty. I’ve been freaking out about this for weeks trying to think of what to say to you. I didn’t know if you wanted to talk to me again.”

“Just tell me about your trip.” Scott said, his little pet peeking three black eyes curiously over the edge of his pocket. “I want to know about your adventures.”

“Farty!” Stiles reached out for the little beast that only yawned and snuggled deeper into Scott’s pocket. The spacer didn’t care. He’d already brightened like a star and launched into an animated tale he called ‘The Return of the Farties.’ Scott listened raptly to every word, a grin crawling across his face, but no matter how exciting the story, he couldn’t seem to forget how Stiles’s ankle nestled against his.

Attention wasn’t enough to get Stiles to leave. After Scott came back from serving a customer to slide back into his seat, Stiles commented idly, “You know, I’m getting attached to this one.”

“What?” Scott asked, quirking a brow at the non-sequitur. 

“This booth.” Stiles said, lazily putting his feet up on the opposite chair and wiggling them. His boots knocked against Scott’s hip until the bartender shoved them away. “Good things happen here.”

“Yeah, it’s a good booth.” Scott curled his fingers against Stiles’s hand, not holding on but close. A touch, an invitation.  _I missed you_. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them before they could escape. “It’s late, you know. We should be closing up soon.”

“Yeah.” Stiles echoed and took the hint without breaking his smile. Scott was grateful. “I should probably go see about getting a room before they close up for the night.”

“Or maybe you could stay the night with me? I mean, it is late and everything. You can find a room tomorrow.” He hooked his fingers around Stiles’s thumb. He could do this, there was time enough to make smart decisions later. Right now, he didn’t want to let Stiles go.

“Really?” Stiles asked, making sure that it was alright and looking at him like he was trying to read the truth in his eyes. “It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“I want to. You’ve been gone a long time, I’m glad you’re back.”

“I-”

 _Missed you, too_. Stiles didn’t say the words, neither of them should, but Scott read them in the curve of his mouth and the wrinkle in his brow. He hoped that Stiles’s silence meant that he wouldn’t push, even as he accepted that was only wishful thinking.

His fingers brushed along the inside of Stiles’s wrist, carefully nudging against the ball joints that kept his mechanical hand steady. He could see the moment Stiles felt it, and watched the shudder that coursed through him with hooded eyes.

“Give me five minutes.”

Scott didn’t need eyes on the back of his head to know Stiles watched him go. In his pocket, Farty burbled appreciatively. Scott would high-five it if Farty had hands to high-five.

Closing down the bar took longer than five minutes, but Stiles didn’t complain. Stiles followed Scott home like a lost stray, all that confident swagger stripped down to rusty bravado, but he was trying and he  _wanted_. Anyone could see it. Stiles was just so awkward, and it was beginning to grate on Scott’s nerves. Or maybe Stiles’s jokes had always been this bad.


	2. Chapter 2

 “Huh. So did you get new… walls?” Stiles tried, waving his hand in exaggerated circles as they stepped into Scott’s quarters.

“Nope.” Scott said, popping his lips on the p, and Stiles deflated. Scott bit back a smile, probably one a little meaner than it should be, but he plucked Farty out of his pocket, gave the creature a kiss on its fuzzy forehead and left it to explore the underside of his couch.

“Because, I could’ve sworn…”

“Stiles.”

Stiles’s head swiveled around so fast, it might’ve flown off if it wasn’t attached to his shoulders. Scott moved closer, forcing him a back with every step, and Stiles didn’t realize he was already trapped. Then Scott shoved him into the wall and licked his mouth open.

It was frighteningly easy to fit his body against Stiles, hips slotting so perfectly together as he kept the other man pinned. They kissed with the desperation of months, needing to reestablish what they were with touch and gasping breaths and captured groans that ran down Scott’s spine like a jolt of electricity.

Stiles’s hands were warm and eager, sliding beneath his shirt and along the muscles of his back to pull him closer. It was always closer, after so long apart, even the smallest spaces felt too far. If this was trouble, then Scott threw himself into it, a willing victim of his own bad decisions because it all felt so good.

The spacer finally came up for air, skin blotchy red with the flush that crept all the way up to his hairline and lips shiny red. It was all Scott could do to focus on the words, watching to capture them again and swallow down each little sound. “Are you sure this is okay?”

He  _asked_. That was the worst of it, the reason Scott’s chest felt tight with emotions he didn’t know how to name. Fear and need and affection and confusion, something new that threaten to overwhelm him. Stiles asked and Scott could only laugh, quiet and breathy as he dragged his mouth over the mechanic’s collarbones. “I want you, Stiles. If you want me.”

He could feel Stiles shiver when he said his name. With a grunt, the world spun and Scott found himself the one pinned against the wall. Stiles hooked his hands under Scott’s thighs and lifted him easily with his one mechanical arm, spreading him wide so Scott had to wrap his legs around his partner’s waist just to hold on. “Wanted you so bad, Scotty.” Stiles murmured, sucking a bruise into Scott’s skin. “I need you.”

Stiles’s lips danced over his skin, teeth dragging across his pulse. Sharp bites left Scott reeling, gasping for air, as Stiles marked him, forcing Scott to turn his head as he hissed obscenely against his skin. It was going to be too high above his collar to hide, and Scott should have been worried about how much he just didn’t care.

“How do I get your fucking pants off,” Stiles snarled through clenched teeth. He tugged insistently at Scott’s shirt, his belt, squeezing his crotch as he ground into the curve of his ass, and the bartender laughed breathlessly, flushing to the tips of his ears.

“Should’ve thought about that before you picked me up.”

Scott had all of two seconds to feel smug before he was dropped unceremoniously on his butt. Then Stiles’s hands were in his hair, pushing and shoving with frantic urgency. Scott was shoved into the wall, face first, hard enough to knock the wind out of him, and he couldn’t fight back a shudder as Stiles ran his hands down his sides. The spacer grabbed him by the wrists, pressed them deliberately by his head.

“You’re going to keep these for me right here, Scotty.” He whispered, pressing a gentle kiss at the base of Scott’s nape, licking the sweat off his skin as he ground his hips in. Scott felt him hardening through his pants, thick cock dragging against the curve of his ass, just as Stiles reached around, scratching his nails over his belly. “And I’m asking nicely.”

“Well, since you asked.” The snarky reply was robbed of its heat as a moan caught in his throat. His hands curled against nothing, bound only by his word. Stiles was too practiced at this, stripping him down in seconds and leaving his pants pooled around his ankles to trap him in place. Each touch was demanding, stripping away more than clothes as Scott bit his lip to keep from begging. He couldn’t let Stiles win so easily.

Scott spread his legs as far as he could, curving his pack to rub his ass against Stiles’s crotch in teasing circles and was rewarded with a sharp slap against his backside. They both froze as Scott’s skin reddened in the shape of Stiles’s hand. He could feel Stiles tense, awkward regret creeping in and took charge before it could ruin the mood.

“Is that all you’ve got?” His voice was low, growling with a challenge that Stiles couldn’t resist. The next smack was hard enough to jolt the breath from Scott’s lungs as Stiles marked him, unzipping his pants and dragging his cock against the hypersensitive skin.

“How’s that?” Stiles purred, weight heavy against Scott’s back as he shoved him flat against the wall. “You’ve got such a cute little ass, Scotty. It looks better with my hands all over it.”

“Still not impressed.” Scott panted, lying through his teeth. “You’ve kept me waiting for months, Stiles. You’ve got to give me something to remember you by.”

The sharp beat of skin on skin made him lurch forward. Stiles’s open palm against his ass sent a jolt of heat through Scott’s nerves that left his nerves prickling. Stiles didn’t move at once, letting each sensation gain bite as Scott gasped encouragements against the wall. Just when Scott thought everything would fade, Stiles struck him harder, faster. His body sang with too sharp pain until Stiles stroked over his heated flesh, soothing so sweetly the hairs on Scott’s neck stood on end.

“Do you like that?” Stiles asked, sounding just as wrecked as Scott felt.

Scott turned into the wall, whimpering as cool metal touched his lips. His eyes had fallen shut, too much effort to keep open, and  _fuck_ , Stiles was waiting for an answer. “Please…? Again.  _Again_.”

Stronger, rougher swings had him panting for air, so hard Scott felt his teeth rattle in his skull. And as pain suffused into his skin, Stiles reached around, stroked his balls, played with his cock. So nice and easy when everything else had punished. Scott’s knees buckled, too dizzy to keep up, babbling encouragements like he was drunk on desire, thrusting into the palm of Stiles’s hand. 

“Scott, Scott you’re all red. You should see yourself. It’s so fucking hot.”

Stiles grabbed him hard, fingers digging into the thick swell of his ass, and Scott couldn’t fight back a scream. Precum dribbled down his cock, spilling down his shaft as he fought for air, but Stiles turned gentle, kneading and palming his flushed skin even as he spread his cheeks. Scott shuddered as he felt his thick cock sliding between them, his length kissing right against his hole.

On the curve of his shoulders, Stiles’s mouth was like a brand, searing into his skin when Scott couldn’t breathe. Punishment and reward. Pain and pleasure. Scott didn’t know he could have both so easily.

“Is this okay? I wanna fuck you like this, can I fuck you Scott?”

“Yes.” His breath misted against the cool metal walls, the simplest word a struggle but he wanted this more than he could say. It wasn’t fair how he couldn’t seem to get the spacer out of his mind, all he wanted to do was feel how perfectly they could fit together again. It was an invitation Stiles couldn’t resist.

Stiles teased the head of his cock against Scott’s hole, slick and tight as he pushed himself inside. Inch by inch, slow as buried himself as deep as he could. Stiles covered Scott’s body with his own, hands sliding down sweaty skin to tighten around his partner’s cock.

“Move.” Scott whispered, voice hoarse but still demanding as he rolled his hips back.

“Or else what?” Stiles’s voice sounded just as broken with that taunting, challenging edge that always drove Scott crazy.

He wrapped his hands around Stiles’s, thrusting between them and riding back against Stiles’s cock. If Stiles wouldn’t move, then Scott would move for him. He was rewarded with a short gasping curse as Stiles’s hands slid back to his hips, shoving him roughly against the wall and pounding into him just as Scott had hopped. Wet skin slapped against skin, Scott’s ass burning with every wild, broken buck.

It was too fast, clumsy in hunger, both of them rushing to the end of their limits, Scott heard his name, whispered against the shell of his ear, Stiles’s body impossibly warm against his back, his grip so fucking tight, it felt like Scott was going to break. He came apart all at once, control slipping through a grip that didn’t try all that hard to keep it, but Stiles dragged him backwards, forcing him to bend in half, his fingers scratching uselessly against the wall. He fucked him through his orgasm, Scott half-certain his legs would give out at any moment, and he screamed and screamed.

When it was all over, they fell into a gross, sweaty pile on the floor, clinging to each other because there was nothing else to hold on to. Scott dropped his head on Stiles’s shoulder, scrunching his face up as Stiles dropped kisses on his nose, across his cheeks and along his brow. Time seemed to have slowed to a halt, passing only with the beat of Stiles’s heart.

Three little words danced on the tip of Scott’s tongue. Three little words that would change everything.

Then Stiles laughed and said, “Guess you’ve been a bad, bad boy, Scotty.”

Scott groaned and pushed him over.

“You’re such a jerk.”

“Mmhmm, and you liked it.” Stiles winked at him and Scott wasn’t sure if he was going to smack him or let those three little words slip. One seemed safer than the other. He couldn’t help but join in the laughter, flopping back against the other man and taking a deep breath, everything aching and exhausted.

“It was decent.” He tried to keep a straight face, but failed as Stiles’s jaw dropped in outrage. “Come on, I promised you a place to stay for the night.”

Stiles groaned and waved his hand dismissively. “Here’s good, just leave me here, dude. I’m not sure I can stand for a while. Throw me a pillow or better yet, get your butt over here. That’s soft enough to sleep on.”

Rolling his eyes, Scott slowly managed to get up to his feet, kicking off his wadded up pants and hoisting Stiles easily up into his arms. “HEY! Rude, let me down. Scott, put me down!” The man yelped, flailing in surprise as Scott calmly carried him into the bedroom and lightly tossed him onto the bed like he weighed nothing at all.

Stiles landed with an oomf, glaring out naked from the mess of sheets. “You can’t just pick up a guy and-” He shrieked again as Scott cannonballed onto the bed on top of him.


	3. Chapter 3

When Scott woke, he was aching and tired, and sticky in places he really didn’t want to think about. It felt so good. Even all the laundry he’d have to do couldn’t dampen his mood. Scott felt like he was floating, arms splayed out in every direction, his face shoved into his pillow. He might have to call off of work, spend the rest of the day doing absolutely nothing except maybe rub lotion on his butt.

Then Scott smelled smoke.

He bolted up in his bed, eyes wide and terrified, fearing the worst, and came face to face with Stiles’s vaguely embarrassed grin as the spacer held out a tray of what might have once been breakfast but now looked like something an engine spit out.

“You have a really sensitive oven.”

He let out a relieved breath and a small chuckle, flopping back down into the nest of pillows on the bed. “I thought you were burning my apartment down.”

“Almost!” Stiles said, extremely proud of himself with no hint of remorse. “You know, you barely have anything to eat in here. I had to improvise, but I think it came out okay.” He perched on the edge of the bed and Scott took the tray graciously, trying not to seem as apprehensive as he felt. If this is what Stiles thought was okay, then he didn’t want to think about what the poor guy had been eating all his life.

“That’s really sweet of you, thank you.” Scott tried a bite and managed to smile around it, which made Stiles beam.

“I dunno, I just wanted to do something. I’m just happy.” He settled into bed beside Scott, pressing a kiss against the bartender’s shoulder. “This is nice, I’ve been thinking about you the whole time I’ve been gone.”

“Stiles-“ Scott warned gently, but the mechanic plunged ahead.

“I know you don’t want to leave and I shouldn’t have asked. That’s not fair, your life is here and I need to respect that. I’m just, I like you, Scott. I like you a lot and I think that you like me too, so maybe we should do something about that.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno. Like maybe  _I_  stay?”

Stiles was still talking, gesturing excitedly with one hand while the other remained slung heavily around Scott, but Scott had stopped listening. He would have turned off his auditory senses if he thought the risk was worth a few moments of peace. Now he was just… tired. So tired. 

It was his own damn fault. He knew Stiles was pushy, even with the clearest limits set out before him. He’d been silly to think that he could change him, and sillier still for not noticing such an obvious lure. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bed, scrubbing his face with his hands.

“Scott?”

Scott really didn’t want to look at Stiles’s face right now. Good humor was far too much effort.

“I’m not going to have anything with you staying. Do what you wanna do, but don’t make it my problem.” Scott made no effort to take the sting out of his words. “I didn’t sign up for that, and I don’t want it, Stiles, and I don’t know why you still don’t get that.”

“But…I thought. Last night, you…” Scott could see Stiles was struggling, the last few hours building up hope within him just to crumble around his feet when he thought he was safe.

“You were wrong.” Scott said simply, closing his eyes and trying to settle himself with a few deep breaths. This part hurt, he always tried to avoid it if he could, but sometimes they just got too close. It was his fault for letting it happen, he’d just been too unwilling to cut ties even when he could see the danger.

“I’m not wrong!” Confusion slid into hurt and then to anger, Stiles standing abruptly and shoving an accusatory finger into Scott’s face. “You like me, I know you do. You like being together and you wanted me to come back. You’re the one who invited me to your place last night. You can’t go through all of this and tell me know you don’t feel anything!”

“I can’t give you want you want, Stiles.” Scott’s voice was slightly muffled by his hands and he pushed passed the other man towards the kitchen to clean up. “I made that clear.”

“You sure as hell didn’t! You  _like_  me and I-” Stiles faltered and Scott winced. “I could even-”

“I don’t love you!” Scott finally snapped, whirling on the other man. “I can’t, okay? I tried to tell you that, but you’re just so freaking stubborn, you won’t listen when it’s not something you want to hear.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

The question cut deep and Scott turned away. “That makes no difference. All I know is you’re acting like an asshole, Stiles, and I have fun with you, yeah, but that’s all I want from this. I don’t owe you anything. The fact that you’re making me say so again really pisses me off.” 

Scott pretended it was just anger that made his voice tremble as he balled his hands into fists. He was scared, his heart hammering in his chest, but what terrified him, he couldn’t say. Maybe it was the sense of finality that settled over his bones. Maybe it was the anger and hurt in Stiles’s eyes and the knowledge that the spacer was capable of being quick and cruel when he wanted to be, or maybe it was the cold certainty of knowing that no matter what Stiles did, Scott would not let him hurt him.

“And if that’s not good enough for you, you should have stopped a long time before we got here.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” Stiles snarled. “There’s only two options here. Either you did all of this to mess with me because you wanted to string me along and humiliate me or you’re lying.”

“This isn’t about you!” Scott bit back between clenched teeth. “This is about me and right now, I want you out. You clearly don’t respect what I want, so you can leave. Don’t come back.”

Stiles looked like he wanted to keep arguing, but Scott turned his back and refused to speak. He didn’t want to see Stiles deflate, the rage draining away and replaced with cold acceptance. He didn’t want to look at his face or see if his words had cut deep. It had been a long time since he’d wanted to hold on to anyone, but Scott knew that he had to let go. The only way to do it was to make a clean break no matter how it hurt.

The door slammed closed and Scott winced, slowly starting to pick up the mess in the kitchen and settling the loneliness of his life back around his shoulders.

_I’m sorry._


	4. Chapter 4

Scott called into work, and then showed up anyway, dragging himself up to the bar to accost Byex for a plate of kuego, her specialty soup dish, something she usually reserved for those from her home planet. It had enough heat to burn through steel, but Scott ate an extra helping while only making a few faces.

“You can sigh all you want. It won’t get you out of tipping.”

Scott groaned on principle, and dropped his head on the counter. He knew just how dirty it was. Right now, he didn’t particularly care. “What if I go back there and do the dishes?”

“You’re leaving me to the lunch rush on my own. Nothing short of your left lung can make up for that.” Byex sneered.

“But you don’t even need it.”

“True, but I hear they go well with spiced lentils.” Scott wasn’t parrying half as well as he should be, and if he noticed, there was no doubt Byex did as well. She scowled at the back of his head when he refused to raise it. The tone she used was deceptively light, but Scott knew just how sharp her claws could be. Alpha 16 was not kind to those who could not protect themselves. “What did that spacer do?”

“Exactly what I expected him to do.” Scott huffed and Byex smiled, all sharp teeth and annoyance.

“Propose his undying love to you and offer to take you away from here together?” She offered, rolling her eyes. Scott sighed and shrugged his shoulders, anxiety knotting the muscles down his back until it hurt.

“Something like that.”

“They never really learn, boss.” The other bartender was dismissive, picking up a rag and scrubbing at the counter top before the crowd of hungry residents and spacers started filling in for lunch. “They always think they’re rescuing you from your life even if you warn them. Why care so much about this one? That Pyyid was much better, at least it had some meat on it. That human is too scrawny, I don’t ever understand your taste in those.”

It was enough to startle a brief laugh from Scott, exactly what she’d hoped. “He’s got other good qualities.”

“I can’t see them. He must fuck like a champion.”

Scott hummed a little before his mood soured again. “He was different than the others, Byex. I actually liked this one. A lot. I thought we could actually be friends somehow, he kept coming back and he made me laugh. I liked spending time with him and now it’s all ruined.”

“You can’t be friends with rutting males, Scott.” She clucked her tongue against sharp teeth. “They can’t separate their hormones from anything else.”

“They  _can_.” Scott grumbled darkly. “You can get without someone without demanding that they owe you anything else. Normally when someone’s too stupid to get that, at least they have the decency to never come back.”

He just wished Stiles hadn’t been one of them.

Byex was quiet for a moment, then she walked into the manager’s office and came back with two full flagons of whiskey, the good stuff. Scott smiled despite himself. Their glasses clinked, and Byex downed half of it in one gulp. Scott couldn’t quite manage the burn. He knew she was being extra nice to him today, because she didn’t say anything about it beyond an almost dainty snort.

“I think I’m just gonna go home. Rewatch  _Passions_.“ Scott mumbled and reached across the counter to steal as many of their nionto as he could wrap in a napkin. 

Byex hummed in agreement. “It was a good episode. Xristip’s got guts. I always like that in a heroine.”

Just as Scott gathered his things to go, the front door opened to reveal an almost painfully unhappy Wolveen. Liam sighed like he wanted the whole bar to hear then dragged his feet to a booth in the corner of the room. Even his yellow jacket looked dimmer. The bartenders exchanged looks. Hayden was nowhere to be seen, and Scott was pretty sure she was part of the whole sneaking around business, too.

Scott reached for more nionto. He was going to need it.

He plopped himself in the seat across from Liam, watching as the Wolveen struggled to keep himself looking human. In his agitated state, his canine features were starting to poke through; the tips of his ears lengthening, the fur thickening around his cheeks. “You don’t have to do that around me, you know.” Scott said gently and Liam just put his head down on the table, hands curled into his palms so no one would see his claws.

“People aren’t so scared of me if I can look like everyone else.”

“Humans aren’t everyone else, Liam. There’s nothing wrong with being who you are.”

“You can say that because you’re human too!” The younger man snapped, glaring out from under his unkempt hair at Scott. “You don’t know what it’s like. It’s not fair! If I was human like they were, there wouldn’t be any problem with me seeing Hayden. Her Dad hates me because he thinks I’m a monster.”

Scott took a deep breath and forced a smile. He knew better than he’d ever like to admit. “Just because you’re different doesn’t mean you’re a monster. Hayden’s Dad is a small minded bigot who’s afraid of anything that doesn’t look like him. You can’t let yourself listen to what he says. Hayden likes you for who you are, right?”

“I guess.” Liam dragged his finger tip petulantly through a wet spot on the table top.

“Then listen to her and not her Dad.”

Liam’s shrugged, pointedly avoiding Scott’s eyes. Scott watched as he drew rays in the tiny puddle, busying himself with recreating a sun while Scott steadily worked his way through his snack. Liam came around eventually, sending the bartender a squint-eyed glance, with none of the subtlety every teenager thought they had. He voice was almost too soft to hear. “She loes me.”

“I would put credits on it.”

“I love her too.” He added, in the same, almost dreamy tone.

Scott only smiled. “You know, I never would’ve guessed?” 

Liam wasn’t really listening. The Wolveen let out a tired sigh, drying his hand on his jeans before propping his chin on it. “It’s just… She’s funny and smart, and she’s not afraid of me. She never was, and I don’t have to hide around her. She - she gets me. I don’t wanna lose that. Do you know what that’s like, Scott? Just to have someone who, who gets you?”

Scott’s smile felt brittle, but Liam seemed happy with the answer he read off his face. For his friend’s sake, he tried to inject a little more warmth into it. “Well, as long as she knows, it’s always good to make sure she’s on the same page as you. Maybe try to be a little more subtle ‘bout it before Clarke-”

“It’s just her Dad!” Liam interrupted, shoving a handful of Scott’s nionto into his mouth and chewing ruefully. “It’s a good thing your friend punched him or I might’ve.”

“What?” Scott blanched. He already regretted asking.

Liam sighed. “No, you’re right. He’d kick my ass.”

“Wait, go back to the my friend punching Mr. Romero thing?”

“Yeah!” Liam brightened just a little at the memory. “He popped him right in the mouth. It was a good thing too, you know how loud Mr. Romero can be. He started causing trouble  _again_ , you know how easy it is to rile everyone in the market. Then your friend comes along and wham!” He lashed out like he was punching an invisible adversary. “He got hauled off by Clarke, but it was totally worth it to see.”

Scott dropped his head to the table with a thunk and a groan. “This is that dopey spacer, right?”

Liam nodded, forehead worried in confusion. “You don’t think it’s awesome?”

“I think he’s an idiot who can’t keep himself out of other people’s business.”

“Well, I think it was pretty cool.”

“Go home, Liam. I’ll go see if I can convince Clarke to let him go tonight. Maybe. It could do him some good to sit in jail for a while.” Stiles no doubt deserved it just as much as Hayden’s father. There’d been plenty of times Scott wanted to smack the man himself, but it was harder to act out when he had to live here and face the same people every day. Better to find more subtle ways to try and keep the peace, they were all living precariously enough as it was. Stiles had no tact or subtlety, of course he would go sticking his nose into these problems without a single thought to the consequences.

Scott pushed the rest of the nionto towards Liam and slid out of the booth, refusing to look at Byex who’d overheard the entire thing and wasn’t even trying to hide how hard she was laughing at him. He really needed better friends.

 

* * *

 

 

“You sure about this?” Clarke asked, her expression guarded and weary. Scott knew exactly how she felt.

“No.” He confessed, and quietly wondered why more and more people seemed to ask him that whenever Stiles dropped in on his life. “But do it anyway.”

The guard didn’t look convinced, but she dutifully set up the credit transfer and held out her tablet for Scott to confirm. This early in the day, the security division looked almost cheerful - almost being the operative word. It always smelled vaguely like motor oil and sweat, not entirely unlike the spare parts shop that the Romeros ran by the marketplace. Scott nodded towards the other guard on duty, a Glolium who didn’t even look up as they passed. Clarke lead Scott to the holding cells, and something like dread settled in the pit of his belly. He shoved his hand in his pocket until Farty butted its snout against it. Scott told himself that helped a little.

“Was he unprovoked?” He asked softly, and the answering look on Clarke’s face  _complicated._

“I know my Dad is difficult, but he’s still my Dad.” She said quietly as she paused by the door. “Your friend is right here.”

Friend. Scott didn’t think Stiles knew the meaning of the word anymore. He held a breath before stepping closer, watching the Spacer before Stiles knew he had company. The man looked tired and disheveled from the fight, a bruise starting to color along his jaw but not too worse for the wear. When Stiles noticed Scott, he grinned suddenly, proud if a little sheepish. It made Scott’s stomach sink.

“Hey, Scotty.” He drawled, faltering slightly in the face of Scott’s stony stare.

“You never get it, do you?” Scott said through his teeth. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Stiles’s hackles rose, seeing himself the hero and suddenly finding himself on the defensive. “I was thinking that the guy was an entire bag of dicks. Don’t tell me you give a shit about him, I’ve seen the way he treats your friend Liam. I was doing you a favor!”

“But punching the father of the security officer who arrested you? I don’t need you to do me favors like this! You’re just shoving your nose into things that aren’t your business and now you’ve finally gotten yourself in trouble.”

“I was trying to help.” Stiles was seething, but Scott refused to back down.

“Well, you’re not. I should just leave you in there, maybe you’ll actually learn something.”

“Don’t - don’t you get it Scott? I did this for you, too.” Stiles snapped, chewing out each word before dragging them out, like he thought Scott needed his bullshit slowed down to understand it, and Scott hated how easy it was for him to be so obnoxiously condescending.

“I never asked you to! No one asked you to do this, Stiles. You can’t keep expecting people to agree with you just because you feel something!” 

“If I’m such a pain, then you don’t have to be here.” 

“Well, I don’t want to be!”

“Fine!”

“ _Fine_!” It was a long time since Scott could remember being this angry. The back of his mouth tasted like broken wires, and the tips of his fingers felt like they were supercharged. And still Stiles wouldn’t understand. He could see it in his face, see his righteous indignation and blustering ego, and he had to turn away, storming out of the holding cell. He didn’t want to be the one to have to bear both their hurt. Scott just wished Stiles cared half as much as he said he did. 

And that he could get a refund on Stiles’s bail.


	5. Chapter 5

Scott was done. It was pointless trying to talk sense into Stiles. There wasn’t any use in trying again. Stiles didn’t want to understand and no matter how Scott tried to explain things, talking to him was a lost cause. Unfortunately, Stiles didn’t just disappear. Days later, Byex didn’t say a word as Scott took up his place behind the bar, just flicked her eyes to the angry shadow that followed Scott in and sat down at the booth with a huff. 

If Stiles thought that just sitting there would get him to talk, he was mistaken. Scott refused to even acknowledge him, focusing on the rest of the patrons with a smile as if his insides weren’t twisted in knots. It wasn’t  _fair_. Stiles just kept pushing and pushing, he had no idea what it was he’d broken. Lovers were easy, most spacers came to port looking to work off a little tension after months in space.

Friends were something rare.

Maybe this was all on him, Scott had seen the warning signs but hadn’t pulled back. He was usually so much more careful, keeping his life separate from those he took home with him. There wasn’t anything wrong with spending time with someone looking for a little release, but they weren’t supposed to worm themselves into his life like this.

Stiles had been different, but he couldn’t separate between the sex and something more. He wanted more than Scott was capable of giving. Love was not what Scott was looking for, and now he’d lost the rare chance to have a friend too. And Stiles didn’t seem to even understand why.

“You pour a strong flask.”

Scott turned back to his customer, A Gekeks with bright eyes and a nice smile. Polite, even if they were rough around the edges, and carried the weight of a weapon on their hip, a plasma blaster if Scott had to guess. Those were the easiest to smuggle. They were all over any place the war had touched. Very easy to hurt someone with, but they hadn’t pushed. 

Scott read interest in the way their eyes lingered, the embarrassed stutter in their laugh, the way their mantle flushed when Scott leaned in, and Scott found himself smiling despite everything. They were interesting enough to get him to forget his drink orders and dryly funny in a way that caught Scott by surprise. They were leaving Alpha 16 in nine hours. It was a nice change. And he liked their arms.

“Well, if you want me to ease up on you, Spacer, all you have to do is ask.” He said, leaning in to watch their smile turn sly. Somewhere in the back of the dining hall, someone stood up fast enough to knock a table. Scott pointedly did not look to see who it was.

“Nah, I’m okay if you play rough.” The Gekeks bantered back and Scott’s eyebrows rose. He could use the distraction, especially when he could almost feel the heat from Stiles’s eyes boring a hole between his shoulder blades.  _This_ was his life, whether or not Stiles wanted to accept it. He made connections, however brief, with the people passing through the station. This wasn’t a place where anyone stayed, this was all he asked from them and all he wanted them to give.

Stiles should have learned that lesson.

“I don’t know if that would be fair, I’m not quite as armed as you.” Scott teased, tipping his head at the thick tentacles that coiled by the Gekeks’s side, winning an amused laugh that wound low in his gut, igniting more basic needs.

“No, I’ll admit. I wasn’t planning on playing fair.”

“Good.”

There was another one of those warm, knowing chuckles and Scott set another drink in front of his patron. He enjoyed this part of the dance almost as much as the act itself. He liked the ones with an edge, still smelling of exhaust and stardust. It was an old pattern that was easy to slip into and the Gekeks was more than receptive. When his shift finished a few hours later, they were waiting for him with an offer he was eager to accept.

A strong arm slid around his waist, drawing him in, and keeping him steady while a sleek tentacle curled innocently by his calf. The distracted way his partner moaned giving away too much of his eagerness. Scott laughed into their skin, hand hooking around their shoulders and dragging them down the closest corridor.

Stiles might have been waiting, too, but Scott pointedly ignored the dark figure that stalked them. It wasn’t his problem that he wanted to watch.

He pulled his partner in, until Scott’s back was snug against the wall, thrumming with anticipation. The Gekeks crowded him in all too readily, as a pair of strong tentacles settled along his waist, sliding under his clothing. 

“Hi. I’m Illon. I feel that’s… S’only polite really,” they laughed, low in their throat and Scott tiled his head back, showing him everywhere he wanted to be kissed. Illon didn’t disappoint.

“Hi, Illon,” Scott teased, sliding his hand over his long limbs. They were cool to the touch, slick in a way that left his skin prickling with sensation as he guided them under his shirt. They trapped Scott’s arms behind his back, loosely at first but tightening. “If you stop now, I’m gonna have to scream.”

“I might have you screaming if I don’t stop.” The Gekeks purred and Scott shivered with anticipation. He forced himself to stop listening for Stiles, placing all of his attention on the being in front of him. If this hammered home the message that he was unavailable, then all the better. He could give Stiles a show.

The delicate tips of the Spacer’s other tentacles slid beneath his waistband, a coordinated assault from every direction that left Scott gasping as they traced against his body. Cool skin wrapped around his cock, squeezing hard enough to startle a groan from Scott’s lips and coaxing him hard. He didn’t have enough hands to catch up, willingly submitting as the Gekeks stripped him bare. The lights in the hallways were dimmed this time of night and all but empty, but anyone could walk by at any moment and the thought of being caught just added to the excitement.

A pink tipped tentacle brushed against Scott’s plush lips, more agile than the powerful limbs that wrapped around his wrists and thighs. He opened eagerly, teasing his tongue against its dripping head before wrapping his mouth around it with a muffled moan. Another tentacle left a trail of slick as it slid between his legs, widening Scott’s stance as its head teased against the tight ring of his hole. He gave a warning growl around his full mouth that trailed off into a whimper as the dripping tentacle around his cock twisted, squeezing wet and warm around him.

“Gonna breed you, human.” The Gekeks murmured against his ear. “Fill every hole you’ve got.”

Scott couldn’t have protested if he wanted to, sinuous muscle sliding against his tongue. It thickened between his lips, filling his mouth until Scott was drooling around it, spit dripping down his jaw as it worked deeper. It kissed the back of his throat, shape bulging as Scott gagged, squirming as he fought for air. Illon held him there, savoring the way he writhed, straining harder against his binds, and just when he thought he couldn’t take it, the dark spots prickling at the corner of his vision, fat, heavy tentacles fucked into his cunt. He gagged, eyes widening in surprise as he squirmed in the Gekeks’ grasp, but Illon was already moving, leaving Scott trembling with shameless want.

Scott gurgled helplessly as he was lifted off the ground, his feet barely touching the ground. He sank down on Illon with a greedy whine, every twist shoving him deeper. The front of his uniform came undone, one button at a time until it hung limply around his shoulders, and wicked tentacles could trace across his ribs and over his tits, teasing as mercilessly as they fucked. He wasn’t used to being manhandled so easily, so carelessly. The Gekeks had no idea what he could do.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Illon hissed through clenched teeth, leaning in to kiss the corner of Scott’s mouth, licking at the blush that darkened his cheeks. “You feel so good, baby. Do you like that? Do you want more?”

Scott clenched down around him, whining eagerly, his hands squeezing around nothing. Illon set him off at a brutal pace, dragging out slowly and shoving all the way in, pounding his clutch until he was aching with want. He was shivering, head thrown back in ecstasy, leaving his throat exposed for a slender tentacle to curl around like a noose. He could feel the thick shaft dragging though his cunt, leaving him dripping with its slick and gaping open. Open and horny and needy, until it shoved back in, hard enough that Scott’s ass bounced and thighs quivered. 

This was exactly what Scott needed. He nodded, eyes glassy and blown dark. Illon held him easily in midair, fucking him until the slick frothed and ran down his legs. He was completely at the Gekeks’s mercy, pleasure a gift he couldn’t even earn with one of the spacer’s tentacles wrapped in a tight pulsing ring around his cock as Scott fought to thrust against him.

Scott tried to beg, drool and precum spilling from his lips stretched around his partner as the tip of another tentacle teased his straining mouth. Illon pulled back just enough for Scott to cough for air, gasping desperate breaths before sealing his mouth with a kiss. “Humans are always pretty, your species is always so eager. I like that about you. That and your flexibility.”

Before Scott could ask what that meant, a second tentacle joined the first, wiggling against the ring of muscle, and he  _screamed_. Screamed like he wanted everyone to hear, only to choke on the tentacles that flooded his mouth, gagging him and choking him Scott was stretched him wider than he thought he could take, broken open with a discordant rhythm and the world narrowed down into a blinding white haze of pain and pleasure. Illon was too thick, he felt like he was splitting in two as the Gekeks fucked him without mercy. His eyes rolled as Illon slipped another cock passed his bruised lips to fuck his prize twice from each end.

Gentle hands pressed against his belly, almost human save for the teasing slide of carapace that scratched across his skin. Scott tried to lean into the touch, but he couldn’t get the leverage he needed. It felt like Illon was leaving kisses up his legs and across his bare arms, so gentle, so teasing as he wrecked Scott, working him into a frenzy that left him floating. They were relentless, sliding in and out of his throbbing cunt until Scott couldn’t think, his body shaking with need. The stretched burned so good. Tears caught on his lashes and his sweat spilled over his lip. Scott was going to shatter _,_  a pent up groan echoing from his throat.

Then Illon pulled away _,_  left him hanging limply in mid-air, the tentacles curled around his thighs and arms still so punishingly tight, his gaping cunt burning, and Scott  _sobbed_.

He cursed and spat, so close to coming his cock was flushed an angry red, hanging right by the edge of release, when Illon cupped his face and kissed his filthy mouth, Scott bit down hard. “ _Fuck._  Fuck you’re gorgeous. I’m going to play with you all night.”

A wet, heavy tentacle pressed between his cheeks, lapping across his abused hole like a tongue. “Bastard, you fucking bastard,” he slurred, bucking against it, viciously satisfied to see Illon’s mouth puffy and red. “You can’t do that.”

“Can’t what? Can’t see how much more I can fit inside you?”

Scott gasped as he was bent over in mid-air, his knees pointed towards the ground, his face dragged closer to Illon’s crotch, ass up and presenting. The Gekeks hissed sharply, put both his hands in Scott’s hair and whispered, “ _Better.”_

It was all the warning Scott got.

Illon thrust from each end, cutting off Scott’s words before he could even draw breath. The tips of his tentacles swelled, thick cocks splitting the boy in half. Scott choked, trying to swallow around him and drooling down his chin as Illon pounded into his dripping clutch. Then he was cumming, cumming down Scott’s flushed, aching hole, spilling deep inside him, but he wasn’t done. It wasn’t enough. More tentacles replaced the first, fucking and filling until Scott could feel them dripping down his thighs, the obscene squelch of skin on skin so damn loud.

They drove Scott to the brink, nerves singing for release, waiting until he was bucking and thrashing for release. Then Illon pulled away, denied him what he so desperately wanted. The tentacles in his mouth stayed firm, even as Scott howled around his gag, frustrated and angry. The rest left him empty and hollow, the grip around his cock gone limp. Illon left him suspended, watching for when his pulse no longer raced and Scott found it in him to breathe. But it never lasted long.

The Gekeks did it again, and again, pushing him towards pleasure, commanding his body to scream and denying him at the last instant.

Scott’s bucked and thrashed, dizzy with need and desperate for release as Illon dragged a filthy tentacle across his face, painting him with his spunk. Scott couldn’t shy away, so thoroughly used he couldn’t think straight. His body was strung tight, skin flushed and muscles corded as he was fucked right to the razor’s edge. He felt like he was going to burst, like he was going to drown, belly filled with so much seed he could taste it on the back of his throat.

Sharp pinpricks of sensation jerked through him as the Gekeks tugged on his hair, dragging him all the way up so he could kiss the tears off of Scott’s face, admire the boy he’d brought so low. “Do you wanna cum, baby? Show me how bad you want it.”

“Please!” He slurred, begging with each shuddering sob. “Please, let me cum.” Scott kissed them, pressing frantic pleas against Illon’s mouth as his entire body shook with need. Sharp human nails dug into Illon’s shoulders, trying to spur him on.

Relief was brutal. Illon squeezed on his cock, tipping him over with a muffled scream.

Cum splattered against the metal floor, Illon’s tentacles deftly milking Scott dry until he was shaking from the slick coils around his skin. The spacer came down his throat moments later, and he was drowning. Illon pulled out with a squelch, fat drops sliding down the dark skin between Scott’s thighs and dribbling passed his lips. Scott groaned, falling to his hands and knees. He was so full, so heavy, stomach bulging with sex. At any moment, everything would come gushing out, and Scott couldn’t, Scott just couldn’t… Then Illon tipped his head up, to lick his mouth open through the mess.

“Now aren’t you a pretty little thing.”

Scott gave a hoarse laugh, going limp as he was scooped up by gentle tentacles. “I’m a mess.”

“Not yet, but if you take me home, I can really do a number on you.” He hissed air through his teeth sharply as Illon’s tentacles caressed his oversensitive cock. “It’s a shame that humans can only do this once. It’s cute.”

“We can’t all have multiple dicks, dude.” Scott groaned, body refusing to rouse to even Illon’s skilled touch.

“You’re really missing out. Maybe I could play with your one lonely tentacle again before I have to shift out.”

Scott laughed again and held out his arms to drag the other closer. “If you give me a few minutes to catch my breath.” The shadows at the end of the hallway moved and he purposely looked away so he wouldn’t recognize the guilty figure that slunk back into the darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles wanted a drink. That was nothing new. Some would go so far as to say that Stiles was always thirsty. Stiles wanted a drink that wasn’t from  _Aegis_ , and now that was a surprise. A shitty one, if Stiles had to say so himself.

The space station felt too small, like there was no way he could be as far from that goddamn bar as he wanted to be. Probably because Stiles wasn’t really trying to outrun a store, but his own memories, and those were painfully, obnoxiously vivid. In glaring technicolor, he saw Scott with his head thrown back, helpless and wanting. His legs spread in obscene acceptance, his shirt sliding down his dark shoulders. But the worst part, the worst fucking part was when that Gekeks slid his arm around Scott’s waist, and the way Scott leaned into him for more when it was all over.

Or maybe the worst part was that Stiles had stayed to see it.

Stiles found himself in a bar that was just as much of a dump as Aegis had been, but the face behind it was a lot less charming. That suited Stiles just fine. He ordered the strongest drink he could afford, didn’t look too closely at the stains on the flask, and prepared to sulk himself into next week or something equally useful. He would’ve gotten away with it, too, if it wasn’t for the dumb kid who walked through the door.

This was probably the first time Stiles had seen Liam without his gaudy jacket, and the Wolveen looked a whole lot smaller. He also looked like he was up to no good. It was a look Stiles was familiar with. The Wolveen looked up and down the bar, cagey and trying not to be. When he didn’t find who he was looking for, he looked both disappointed and relieved. Stiles was pretty familiar with that, too.

“ _Psst_ , hey kid.”

Liam squinted at Stiles like he didn’t remember him before his expression cleared and he grinned, sauntering over towards the mechanic. “Hey dude! I never got a chance to thank you for taking a swing at that asshole Romero, I really owe you one. Didn’t they drag you off to jail?”

“Yeah.” Stiles’s face soured even further. “That was probably a mistake.”

“No way! Old man Romero had it coming, that jerk hates everyone. I have no idea how Clarke and Hayden are related to him.” He plopped on the seat next to Stiles, gesturing at the bartender who sniffed in derision and set a glass of water in front of him. Liam sighed, making a note to try and work on his human shift to make it look older. “It was awesome how you just  _pow_  and then he was all like  _auuugh!_ ”

None of it mattered though. Stiles had thought it was his shot at winning Scott back and instead, he’d blown it all spectacularly. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to banish the lingering images of Scott and the Gekeks, angry and jealous, and hating himself for feeling both. Why couldn’t Scott understand? Stiles had been from one end of the galaxy to the other and Scott was something special. A friend, something more, someone to hang on to when everything else kept slipping away. For the first time in years, Stiles looked forward to coming back to someone, coming home. He’d lost it all because of his stupid mouth.

“It was just a mistake, kid.” He tried again. “It didn’t change anything.”

“Of course it did! Romero isn’t going to let me and Hayden be together, I know it now. You showed me just how far he’d go. But if we get married, he can’t keep us apart.”

“What?” Stiles deadpanned.

Liam rolled his eyes like he was talking to an idiot. “ _Married_ , you know? That way there’s nothing he can do to stop us. Either he’ll have to accept us or we’ll just leave somewhere.”

Stiles couldn’t stop the bitter laugh from bubbling free, trying to drown it in his drink. The kid was living in a dream, too naïve to take seriously. How did Scott even deal with him? He took another drink, just the thought of Scott, making his insides clench. “Just give up on it, it’s a terrible idea. You even ask her if she wanted to marry you?”

“No, but she’ll say yes! I know she will, she loves me. She’ll be more than happy to leave that jerk and be with me.”

“Shut up!” Stiles slammed his glass on the bar hard enough to crack it in his hand. “God, you’re such a fucking moron. You don’t know anything about the way the world works, kid. You think that your little girlfriend is going to want to give him her family and her entire life just because you asked her to?”

“You don’t know, I love her!”

“That’s not enough!”

“Yes it is! It’s more than enough!” Liam protested, gritting his teeth, and Stiles wished it didn’t make him look so damn young. “You don’t know us! I care about her, and she  _loves_ me okay? I know she wants to be with me. I can tell, and look, see?”

Liam hefted his bag up higher on his shoulder, his expression twisting into something painfully earnest. “I’m going to trade in all I’ve got and buy her a ring. There’s a junker who does business around here, and he’ll be in anytime now, and it’ll… It’l just work out. If we’ve got each other, I know it will. Then we’ll get off this rust bucket, and it’ll - it’ll be everything. I mean, you did it, right? Scott must’ve at one point. It can’t be that hard.”

Stiles stared at the Wolveen for a long moment, but he felt remarkably… empty. It was a terrible plan, and it wasn’t the first time Stiles had heard it. “Has Hayden said anything about getting hitched?”

For once, Liam looked uncomfortable. “Well, I mean, she didn’t say  _no_  exactly.”

Sties pinched the bridge of his nose, then scowled. His hand was still wet. That had been a pretty big crack. How had Scott kept from punching either one of them?

“Tell you what, kid… Talk to her first. Tell her about this plan. That way she can help you pick out a ring.“ Stiles offered, doing his very best to not roll his eyes. It was a struggle. He hoped against hope that Hayden had more sense than Liam. This entire intervention depended on it.

“I guess so.” Liam said sullenly, and Stiles all but sighed in relief. The crazy lovestruck fool was going to get himself hurt and despite himself, he’d been dragged into caring. A little. It wasn’t like he didn’t understand. He knew what it was like to be head over heels in love with someone, planning out a life together in his head that had no basis in reality. He’d been so sure with  _her_ , positive that if he just wore her down long enough that she’d be his and they’d finally be happy. All he had to do was convince her, just like Liam wanted to do with Hayden, just like-

Oh damn.

Stiles felt like slamming his head into the nearest wall. No wonder things had fallen apart with Scott. He was doing the same thing over again, building it all up in his head until he decided Scott must feel the same way he did and when it didn’t pan out, he blamed it on everyone else but himself. Scott had been clear from day one, just like  _she’d_  been clear, and he’d ignored it because it wasn’t an answer he wanted to hear. He’d lost her because of it, and now he’d lost the only friend he’d made in years for the exact same thing. He wasn’t any better than an idiot Wolveen in love.

“I’ve gotta go, kid.” He growled, sliding off the stool. “Talk to her, okay? Just talk to her before you do anything stupid.” Stiles said, leaving the boy behind him as he stalked off through the station.

It was time he took his own advice.


	7. Chapter 7

It wasn’t easy to find Scott, but Stiles parked himself in his booth and waited, ordering enough drinks to keep Byex off his case until the bartender finally showed up. By that time, he’d had enough that his head swam, or maybe it was just his nerves. All the words he’d rehearsed fizzed and died in his head as Scott slammed his hands on the table hard enough to make him jump.

“I thought I made it clear, you need to leave!”

Stiles might have drunk too much, and he was damn sure that he’d been overcharged even if he didn’t know by how much, but none of that mattered. Scott was shaking, so slightly Stiles didn’t think Scott noticed, but his anger was a visceral thing, coming off of him in waves. They were attracting a crowd, and the fact that Scott cared so little made Stiles worry. His voice trembled, like he was the one who had gotten too frisky with good ale, and Stiles flinched despite himself. “Go home, Spacer. We’re done.”

Scott nodded, mostly to himself because Stiles had no idea what they were agreeing to, and made to move away. Stiles just ealized hecouldn’t let him.

“Wait!” That didn’t stop him. So Stiles threw himself out of the booth. He came out of Scott’s blind spot, and would have careened into him, but the bartender sidestepped him like he had eyes on the back of his head. Stiles’s knees knocked painfully against the booth’s edge, “Scott wait please! I don’t wanna fight. I’m sorry… I’m really sorry. S’was my fault. I just. I’m sorry…”

Stiles might have drunk too much, and he was damn sure that he’d been overcharged even if he didn’t know by how much, but none of that mattered. Scott was shaking, so slightly Stiles didn’t think Scott noticed, but his anger was a visceral thing, coming off of him in waves. They were attracting a crowd, and the fact that Scott cared so little made Stiles worry. His voice trembled, like he was the one who had gotten too frisky with good ale, and Stiles flinched despite himself. “Go home, Spacer. We’re done.”

Scott nodded, mostly to himself because Stiles had no idea what they were agreeing to, and made to move away. Stiles just realized he couldn’t let him.

“Wait!” That didn’t stop him. So Stiles threw himself out of the booth. He came out of Scott’s blind spot, and would have careened into him, but the bartender sidestepped him like he had eyes on the back of his head. Stiles’s knees knocked painfully against the booth’s edge, “Scott wait please! I don’t wanna fight. I’m sorry… I’m really sorry. S’was my fault. I just. I’m sorry…”

“Yeah, it was your fault. I don’t what else I need to do to drive it through your head. Wasn’t the show enough?” 

Stiles closed his eyes, feeling like he’d been struck. Scott had noticed him lurking in the hallways, all of that had been for his benefit. It hurt, twisted deep in his chest like a knife and it was no one else’s fault but his own. “Yes.” 

There was something in the way he said the word, soft and wounded that made Scott finally stop, glaring at him like nothing out of Stiles’s mouth would be the truth. 

“Then why are you here?” 

“Because we were friends too and I screwed it up.” Once he got started, he couldn’t stop, slurred words tumbling from his mouth in an avalanche. “I fell for you and that was on me, not on you. You made it clear what you wanted and I didn’t listen, but we were friends too, Scott. I hope we were friends. I thought we were, I really liked that part and if you’d give me a chance, I’d like to try that again.” 

“Stiles…” Scott sighed, but Stiles waved his hands frantically, anything to keep Scott from pulling away but was careful not to touch him. He couldn’t force this, not even if he wanted to. He wasn’t going to make that mistake again. 

“I fucked up everything with everyone I’ve ever known, but it was like I had a second chance with you and I fucked that up too. I can’t do the sex, I can’t separate it from the way I feel and things got messed up. I’m sorry for everything. I can leave if you want, but if you want to try and just be friends, then…then I’ll be better.” 

Scott stared at the spacer coldly, trying to see the truth in his words. This could all be a trick if Stiles thought he could win him over eventually, but there was something terrifyingly honest in Stiles’s face. It almost made Scott embarrassed to look at it, like Stiles was too exposed. If he was honest with himself too, he missed Stiles. The spacer had fit into his life like a missing piece, all the things Scott had never known he’d needed until they showed up on his doorstep with a swagger and a sense of humor that always made him laugh. The station was quiet in the weeks and months without him and Scott found himself looking forward to each and every visit, hoping against reason and experience that Stiles would come back when no one else ever did. Trying again was a risk, but Scott wasn’t sure he was ready to let him go for good. 

“And if I don’t?” Scott asked, crossing his arms over his chest. It wasn’t enough to protect him from the wave of emotion that washed over him when Stiles’s expression crumpled. He shouldered on. He needed to, as much for himself as for Stiles. “I don’t trust you to do better, Stiles, and I don’t know that you won’t just take it all back if you change your mind.”

“One chance, Scott. Just one. And if I mess up, you tell me, and, and that’s it.”

“That’s not fair to you. It’s like, like I’m threatening you or something. I could just tell you to go now.”

“You could,” Stiles conceded softly. “I just really wished you wouldn’t. I think, after everything, it’s - y’know, it’s what I want to do, if it means I can still be your friend.”

He stared at Scott for a long time, trying to see beyond his unhappy resignation. Stiles missed him so much, missed the way he laughed, missed his terrible jokes and wonderfully bright smile, and now that he had Scott without them, he missed them so much more.

“I should.” Scott swallowed thickly, shuffling from side to side, but the confession tore itself from his lips, a secret that almost cost him too much to keep. “But I missed you.”

Stiles inhaled sharply, then he was hobbling towards him. It was a graceless, drunken thing, but Scott met him halfway and caught him in a hug. Someone on the other end of the bar sighed. It may have been accompanied by sarcastic applause, but Scott didn’t care. Stiles shoved his face into Scott’s shoulder, letting out an almost pained whimper, and Scott never thought it was possible to miss someone this much.

“Oh  _Scott._  I missed gbu. Gubu gubu gubu… Unggggh.”

The bartender scowled, pulling back just far enough to watch Stiles’s head roll heavily across his shoulders, drool dripping down the side of his mouth. Scott poked his face experimentally. It was too late. He was already gone.

“Um.”

“He had too much to drink.” Byex commented idly, making her way to the pair’s side without a trace of remorse as she held out the Spacer’s receipt. Scott’s eyes widened despite himself

“ _Pyosix_. Can he afford all that?”

Byex swiped a credit line on her handheld register before tucking the card neatly into Stiles’s front pocket. “Not anymore.”

Scott shot his co-worker a glare as he hefted Stiles’s dead weight around his shoulders. “You’re the worst sometimes, you know that?”

“I’m the worst all the time!” She said brightly.

 

* * *

 

 

Scott checked on Stiles one last time before shutting off the light and gently closing the door to his room. He could have just dumped him off at the front desk of the hotel, but that would be too cruel, especially with the hangover he was going to get in the morning. Humans and pyosix didn’t mix.

He was being foolish and sentimental, but what else was new? The chance to keep a friend, a real friend, was too much an opportunity to pass up. He hoped that Stiles would be able to keep his word, if he even remembered in the morning.

Love was a nice idea and someday, Scott hoped he’d find it for himself, but only when he was ready. Being pushed into things by some fool who thought they knew better was never going to work, and he didn’t want to dragged into something until he was ready. But he was fond of Stiles, he enjoyed the time they spent together and there was something comforting about having someone who cared. Right now, that was everything he wanted.

It might have been a mistake, but those were his to make too.

Stiles didn’t wake up until hours later, groaning with his mouth tasting like he’d licked the underside of a Etruxian pseudopod and his head felt packed with gauze. It took several minutes of extreme self-pity before he realized Scott was there, holding out a cup of something cold and crisp.

“Drink this, I don’t want you throw up on my floor.”

The spacer blinked blearily up at him and obeyed, the drink settling his stomach enough for him to moan actual words. “I think I’m dying.”

“You drank three glasses of distilled pyosix. You’d be lucky if you were dying.”

“Fuck.” Stiles said with emphasis, blinking his eyes open and then needing to strain to keep them that way. He rubbed his throat, as if he could undo three very bad decisions. It gave him something to think about, other than the intent way Scott was watching him.

“I have to go.” Scott blurted abruptly, when the silence stretched on for too long, and hope gathered in his chest, so heavy he thought it would crack him right open. “The marketplace is a real mess, and I -”

“Wait!” Stiles jerked too quickly, tried valiantly to stand, and promptly topped back into bed. He seemed genuinely surprised that his legs weren’t able to hold him. Scott chuckled, and it was only slightly vindictive. But he waited, long enough for Stiles to pull himself together, watching every tentative twitch in the spacer’s recovery, until Stiles was mostly sitting up in bed. Stiles licked his lips, a thousand emotions blurring across his features before he settled in to ask, “Did you mean it? About trying again. As friends.”

“I meant it, but you need your rest right now and I have to get to the marketplace. They’ve just put a ban on refugees and things are tense.”

Stiles’s face scrunched in worry. “Is it, that’s not because of what happened, right?”

The bartender’s smile was sad and he resisted the urge to card his fingers reassuringly through Stiles’s hair. Small steps. “Yes and no. They were looking for an excuse, you’re just the most convenient one.” He hesitated. “But it didn’t help, Stiles.”

“I’m sorry.” Stiles looked miserable, curling up in Scott’s bed and drawing the sheets around him. He’d screwed up with Scott, he’d screwed the refugees, everything he touched fell apart. Scott didn’t tell him it would be okay, but finally gave in and brushed gentle fingertips through his bangs.

“I know. Get some rest, you’re going to need to sleep it off before you stop feeling like you’re dying.”

“But you’re coming back, right?” Stiles seized on that thought, unable to trust the one thing that promised to go right. “You’re really giving me a second chance?”

Scott hesitated, but only for a moment, and this time, his smile was kind.

“What are friends for?”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find Dans's awesome fics [here](http://nevertrustastilesthing.tumblr.com/)
> 
> You can read Rune's stuff [Here](http://fightingforthepack.tumblr.com/) and find her on tumblr at [ Runicscribbles](http://runicscribbles.tumblr.com)


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